


when the stars silhouette me

by AlexSeanchai



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Birthday, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Minor Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Podfic Welcome, prior to this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28666494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSeanchai/pseuds/AlexSeanchai
Summary: Chloé doesn't celebrate her birthday. Why would she, when it's mostly only reminders of how her mother always forgetsChloéthe date?That, Kagami thinks, won't do.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois, Chloé Bourgeois/Kagami Tsurugi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 80
Collections: Miraculous Writer's Guild Blog Requests





	when the stars silhouette me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GalahadWilder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/gifts).



> I missed it by a couple hours (in my defense it has been Blursday for uh a While), but hey, happy birthday!

Adrien's phone chimes. "Don't mess up my hard work," Chloé snaps before Adrien can do more than twitch toward his jeans pocket.

"I'm careful!" Adrien protests, but he glances down at his newly manicured nails—the matte top coat is drying over the stylized sunflowers painted against a blue sky; Chloé has truly outdone herself—and says, "Hey, Plagg?"

Plagg rolls off the top of Adrien's head and through his shoulder, landing on the carpet with the phone. "Pigtails says half an hour," he reports, floating back up.

Chloé eyes both of them suspiciously. "Half an hour what?"

Over by Chloé's closet, Pollen giggles. "I think you should wear the flared white miniskirt."

"You should," Adrien agrees. "You'll look great. Maybe with a black tank and that goldenrod mesh cardigan?"

"…Are we going on a double date?" Chloé asks.

Because that's exactly the sort of scheming Marinette does, and Marinette definitely said she has a date tonight. Chloé has known for two weeks that there's a surprise planned—Jean-Stéphane only told her so she wouldn't buy tickets for tonight to the high fantasy political drama Kagami mentioned wanting to see—and the gift-wrapped pendant Daddy handed her this morning at breakfast was, among other things, an unpleasant reminder of what exactly today _is_. Chloé sort of thought lounging with Adrien, _Howl's Moving Castle_ , and her nail polish collection _was_ the surprise. Marinette wouldn't be so cruel as to throw her a birthday party, but…

Adrien shakes his head, tapping one fingernail with a fingertip. "That's the right idea for how to look tonight, though." Satisfied his nails are dry enough, he rolls to his feet. "Should I tell them you'd like to?"

Plagg falls out of the air laughing at the face Chloé pulls.

The goldenrod mesh cardigan over a tight black spaghetti-strap tank will match the manicure Adrien gave her perfectly. (Two coats plain black, two coats clear with gold glitter, and a glossy top coat; "even I can't screw that up too badly," he'd said, and Chloe had snorted and agreed, fully aware that Adrien once copied the entirety of this classic poem about ospreys onto the back of a business card, in order to impress Marinette. He is however welcome to believe that nail painting is fine art in a way that Chinese calligraphy sized like twelve-point font somehow is not.) This cardigan falls to her hips, though, so Chloé picks up the black flared miniskirt with the lace-edged hem instead, and kicks Adrien out of the room. Low black heels, check her hair, check her lipstick, toss her wallet and phone and a few of Pollen's honey sticks in her little black purse, and she's ready to go.

It's pleasantly warm and breezy outside, though it being this warm this early in June means August is probably going to be brutal. Chloé makes a mental note to stock up on fans, electrolyte drinks, and sorbet, and to come up with a really impressive pun connecting Hawkmoth's home base and the cool moist air of the sewers.

Mme Cheng looks up when Adrien opens the jingling bakery door; Marinette, in the workspace behind her brushing something with something else, doesn't. "Hello, Adrien, dear," Mme Cheng says as Adrien, grinning, heads behind the counter. "Chloé, happy birthday."

Chloé bites back a sharp reply before she's entirely sure of what it'll be. Hopefully her smile doesn't look too fake.

(Knowing she's jealous of Marinette doesn't make it any easier to feel it.)

"Go on up, Chloé," Marinette says. "I just need to finish this up and refrigerate it and then we'll be out of your and Kagami's—meep!"

Adrien laughs, blocks Marinette's attempt to swat him with the cooking brush, and steals half a strawberry out of a bowl. "Now we both have sticky fingers," he tells Marinette, casually leaning on the work counter, exactly as though it's entirely accidental that this means Chloé can't see what Marinette's up to.

Which might mean the strawberry whatever is for _Chloé_.

Marinette huffs, then smiles. "Let me see your nails. —Oh, those are beautiful!"

"I hear sunflowers attract ladybeetles," Chloé says, feeling warm inside—she can connive too!—and smirks when Marinette's cheeks turn pink.

Upstairs, Adrien peeks into the living area. "Kagami?" he calls.

"One moment." Running water stops. "Come in."

Adrien swings the door open and sweeps a bow, gesturing Chloé inside. Kagami is in the kitchen toweling off her hands, the sleeves of her white shirt rolled up past her elbow and a black bow tie above what must be Marinette's pink apron. ( _Bakers gonna bake_ , it reads in three lines of text of different heights, _bake, bake, bake, bake_.) She shrugs the apron off and hangs it on a hook—she's wearing black slacks; the sight leaves Chloé breathless—and before either of them can say anything, Marinette zooms past with a pie plate covered in aluminum foil.

"This has to chill for at least an hour," Marinette says, putting it in the refrigerator. "I said I would clean up," she adds, glancing over the kitchen, which is spotless except for a bamboo mat on one counter and, on the other, a small canister of matcha powder and four steaming porcelain cups, two ordinary sized, two tiny.

"I would not like to be a disrespectful guest," Kagami says.

Kagami has unrolled her shirt sleeves and is putting on a dress jacket. "I can die happy now," Chloé murmurs.

Adrien snickers. "Die happy _after_ dinner," he suggests. "She worked hard making this and it would suck if you died before you got any."

Chloé would glare at him except now she sees what's on the table.

"Many happy returns, little sister," Adrien adds, and whisks Marinette out of the room before Chloé can retort.

Kagami covers her mouth with her fingers and pretends she's not giggling.

"Who said _he's_ the big sibling," grumbles Chloé, who is both younger and shorter. Kagami pretends harder; Chloé pretends she doesn't want to smile.

It's more difficult because there's a whole platter of sushi on Marinette's table: about two dozen slices of sushi rolls arranged in a spiraling pattern, tuna red and salmon pink and carrot orange and cucumber green wrapped in white rice and green-black nori, with little bowls of soy sauce and pickled ginger and wasabi. At the center of the spiral are four halved soft-boiled eggs, with black sesame seeds in neat rows across the golden yolks. Longg is hovering near a small plate to one side that holds one whole and one sliced small of the honey crullers Pollen loves. "This is beautiful," Chloé says. "You made these?"

"Not Pollen's share," Kagami admits, to no one's surprise since Marinette's parents' bakery is downstairs and open. She busies herself emptying the cups into the sink, possibly to hide a blush. "I thought you might like better than takeout. Sit, sit."

"Yes, please," Chloé says, taking a seat and trying to figure out how long this delicious-smelling effort took. Hours, at least, and as Kagami is now measuring matcha powder into the larger cups, she isn't even done yet; no wonder she didn't text once while Chloé had Adrien over. "Pollen, look at the eggs."

Pollen darts over the platter for an aerial view and squeals. "Oh! Oh, how flattering! And my queen, look at the galaxy pattern!"

"Longg decorated the eggs," Kagami informs them, stirring more hot water into the teacups.

"The aesthetic appeal would be lessened if the bee stripes were less than precise," Longg says. Chloé nods solemnly and doesn't say anything about how irregularly shaped most of the pieces of sushi are.

Kagami spoons some tea out of the larger cups to fill the smaller ones, then brings the larger cups to the table, Longg dashing over to follow with the others. Chloé, careful to speak at the same time Kagami does, says "Itadakimasu!"

Except that's not what Kagami said. "Wait, what?" Chloé asks.

"Happy birthday," Kagami repeats.

"Oh." Chloé shoves one of the salmon pieces in her mouth before she can say anything else.

The fish isn't tough at all, to her surprise, and it's not strongly seasoned, but it doesn't need to hide a disappointing salmon taste, either. The nori is crisp, not soggy—it's always a little mushy when Chloé gets delivery—and the rice might be a little too sweet and acidic, but the imbalance might also be Chloé's own fault for not dipping this bite in the soy sauce first. She does that with the next one, while Pollen takes neat bites from a piece of cruller and Kagami applies first wasabi then soy to a sushi piece she holds out for Longg.

"This is the best sushi I've ever had," Chloé tells Kagami. "This is the best food I've ever had."

"Do not say that until you have tried the honeyed strawberry tart I asked Marinette to make you." Kagami is definitely blushing now. "And I am disappointed in all Parisian sushi chefs."

Chloé is reserving judgment on the strawberry tart until she tastes it, even if she is shrieking a little in internal glee. It isn't about how any of this tastes, though. "You made this," she says. The words aren't good enough. "You made this for me."

"I wanted you to have a very happy birthday." Kagami smirks, just a little, and adjusts her bow tie.

Throwing herself across the table to kiss Kagami lots would knock all the sushi on the floor, so Chloé doesn't. But Kagami will have to get up to go get the tart at some point, and _then_ Chloé will kiss her, savoring that sweetness.

**Author's Note:**

> that Owl City's "Honey and the Bee" fits Chlogami surprises them both too; the poem Adrien was showing off with is "[Guān jū](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guan_ju)"  
> 
> 
> [My comment policy](https://alexseanchai.tumblr.com/post/612627045048008704/as-a-fic-writer-i-need-every-reader-to-know): tl;dr happy comments make me happy. So do thinky comments, of course, but there exist jerks who think only thinky comments are worth anyone leaving.
> 
> Find me on [Dreamwidth](https://alexseanchai.dreamwidth.org/) and [Tumblr](https://alexseanchai.tumblr.com/).


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